"Hi. I know a lot of people are going to read this—well, not many, but if I actually get around to using this, and you're reading it, thank you.
"Today is July 10, 20**, if you're reading this from where I think you're reading it, you'll know who I am, but if anyone has passed this on to you, let me explain.
"I am ^[Ç+?, and I am dead. At least, that's how it should be. If not, please don't tell anyone, I beg you. This is written in all the documents; the only part starts now."
July 10…
The date left me speechless. It was written over two months ago. Just from that, I felt as if a thick layer of darkness was slowly consuming me, the light from the screen the only thing saving me from being completely devoured.
"This is an apology. I'm aware of many things in doing what I've done, in case I do it, and I shouldn't be so formal in writing this, but it's something I simply can't avoid.
"I don't know what I really want to write here either. I've had the idea of doing this for a while, but it never felt like it was a viable option. It just seems like the only option I have.
"I didn't do it out of choice; it's no one's fault; I'm the only one to blame. It's a decision I've thought about over and over again. And I repeat, I'm aware of what this entails.
"Why did I do it? Well, that's something even I don't know right now. As a general statement, I'd say out of sheer desperation or acceptance. Oh, and I'm going to say it right here, anyone has the right to read this, although I'd appreciate it if you respected the privacy of the rest of the texts…"
"Well, let's get to the reason you're reading this. Whoever you are, even if you're a Mom, I love you. Right now, I don't even see myself doing it. I just want to have this saved in case I ever have a crisis and… It doesn't matter."
"You have the right to hate me for this. Thinking about something like this scares me, how capable I am of even considering these things.
"Now it's my turn to explain the purpose of this text. Since it's not directed at anyone in particular, I'll simply use this as a way to vent in my daily life, in case I ever end up resorting to that, to keep a record of everything I've done, so people understand why I've done it, and also, to show everyone who I really am.
"I won't say what I think now, as I'll probably comment on it one day or another. I'm not going to add anything else to this. From now on, this document is my diary. You can skip it if you don't want to. I'm not going to say anything important."
"If I had to say how I've been feeling about doing this, I'd say cornered and desperate. Well, that's all for now. If you're not going to read any more, thank you so much for everything, and I'm sorry for not appreciating it enough."
"PS: I won't be writing here every day, so there will be some breaks from time to time, at least I hope so…"
I didn'tfeel as agitated as I expected.
Even if you've written all this... The document is quite long. But I'm going to read it all. I don't care how irrelevant it is, I don't care how unpleasant it is, I don't care how guilty I feel, I...
I brought a hand to my chest, gripping my pajama top tightly, and took a moment to breathe deeply. Even with my leg shaking, and with a certain amount of discomfort, fear, and uncertainty, I continued reading.
"August 11, 20**. How embarrassing to use this… On top of that, I came here to erase everything. And why do I speak as if this were my head? Who cares? Maybe I like to write like this. No, I want to write like this. I'm not going to worry about not including inappropriate things, otherwise this wouldn't be worth anything to me. Well, it's decided. Screw everything, I'm going to start writing, and see if that way I can distract myself, or tire myself out, so I can go to sleep sooner."
"Well, today I went out with Riku to go shopping at the mall. It took me a long time to convince him to come with me, but I think I should stop using the excuse of being lonely. It seems to really upset him."
"He might feel obligated at first, but the moment we're dating, he's all about having fun. I don't know how he does it. Plus, he's a good judge of whether I want to try on new clothes, as he can tell me I look hot without either of us taking it seriously."
"The only bad thing about all this is the trip back. I've never gone out to do that kind of thing with anyone other than a family member."
" I don't know why everyone in class has to be so retarded. There isn't a single decent person there, and the rest of the classes scare me. Leave it, I'm giving up. This is so boring. I can't do it. I'm going to sleep. Bye."
"August 12, 20**. Hello! I have nothing else to do, again. I don't want to write anymore; I'm so lazy. Then I know I'm distracted, especially remembering what I've done, but I don't want to do this. I'm going to do it no matter how much I complain. How pathetic."
"I've been at the library all afternoon. It's not that I've been bored. I've made a lot of progress in what I was reading, and I've been able to disconnect for the most part. I'll be honest with myself and say why I come here instead of reading at home. The book is purchased, and the library is a bit far from home, but I go there because I want people to talk to me."
"Yes, it's the worst place to do it, but, I don't know, a girl or a boy could come up to me and ask me about the book, and from there we could start talking more and more and become friends. This may be clear, but I'm really bad at talking to people; sometimes I'm even embarrassed to talk to Dad. I'm always embarrassed to talk to my brother right away, but when I do, I quickly relax."
" Well, as always, no one has spoken to me today. It's true that a few people have looked at me, but no one has approached me. In fact, no one has sat at the table I was at… It's just a coincidence, right? Anyway, today hasn't been a bad day. I just hope I can sleep well. I can never get up properly, it's like a curse. My fingers hurt, and I haven't written much. It doesn't matter. I'm leaving. See you later!"
"Today is August 13, 2020. I'm warning you that from now on I'm going to eat up the year. I'm tired of writing it. Today I haven't done anything.
" I didn't feel like doing anything, but it's all been really boring. Even what I did get to do wasn't as fun as usual. Why do I have to screw myself up like this just because I don't know what to do? Am I not capable of deciding how to spend my fucking time? I curse my fucking mother. Why do I have to be this boring? Am I so lame that I bore myself or something? Maybe that's why you're alone, you fucking asshole. Who would be interested in this bitch? You don't want the normal kind of attention, even if you don't have any friends. Fuck off. I'm not going to talk here anymore. Bye."
I didn't even understand what this was. No, I understood what it was, but not why.
Is she writing it here to document it? Or else, why would she do something like that? Besides, more than a diary, it seems like she's talking to herself.
I read for several days in a row, which were anecdotes of what had happened during the day, until there was a first jump, from the 18th to the 20th.
1.
"August 20th. As usual, I haven't done anything interesting, if anything. I've just come from touching myself, so I have little to do if I focus on that shit. I want to kill whoever created fucking porn. What a disgusting thing. As if by sticking a dick inside me would make my life instantly improve. If I'm looking to satisfy myself, the best thing would be to just shoot up. Although, well, I know I'll never indulge in either of those things. I'm neither a whore, like the ones in my class, nor a drug addict, like the ones in my class.
"I have no idea if that's what they actually do, but they seem so retarded that they give off that impression. Or at least, they don't seem like good people. A good person wouldn't sell their body or damage it like that, if they do."
"Likewise, it's my fault I'm such a slut... What does it matter, as long as it doesn't affect anyone, it's all good. It's something I've already ingrained so much in me that I don't care what I do. If I feel like it, I'll do it and that's it, there's no need to think "Oh no! I did it again! I'm a shitty person!" because I already know that very well. Although I won't be a shitty person as long as it doesn't affect me when talking, and if the only one I talk to is Riku then it's fine. I'm leaving, I've already talked too much, and I'm too lazy to delete it all. In reality, I'm going to screw myself. FUTURE AMAYA, YOU CAN'T ERASE ANYTHING YOU PUT HERE, IF YOU DO, YOU HAVE TO TELL RIKU THAT YOU ACTUALLY LIKE HIM A LOT. Heh, how's that? How stupid."
"August 21st. I was going to make one more comment about the day, although, well, it was the usual. This time I spent a bit of time in my brother's room, and no, we didn't hook up. Clearly, I have too good a body for him to handle it, plus it would just be disgusting to do it. All of you who have committed incest, die."
"It's one thing to imagine it, which, well, is something more normal. I admit I've done it, but not for pleasure. In the end, it's something that comes naturally, and it's also a way to see if you're mentally screwed, because if you agree to something like that—from inappropriate touching, kissing, and then fucking your brother/sister—you're crazy."
"It's another thing to say that if that person weren't related to you, you would go out with them, or more. Sometimes siblings get along because of who they are, not simply because they've spent a lot of time together. And I'll clarify this again. I don't like Riku, in the romantic and sexual sense of the word, but I love him as a person and as, well, everything, apart from those first two things, of course. I really shouldn't be writing this here; there's already a personal note for him, but whatever, this isn't a farewell letter or anything anymore, it's my diary! And I can put whatever I want in it! Suck my dick, I don't have any if you object."
" Back to the topic, if we were from different families, we wouldn't have even met, because of the age difference, and well, because of the problems I have now regarding 'you know what', but if for some reason I had met him, hehe, I'm sure we would either be best friends or boyfriend and girlfriend. Just thinking about doing those things with Riku in my head disgusts me, but if there's someone like him out there, I want to meet him right now. Well, I'm done sucking his dick for today, I'll talk about something else tomorrow. I want to make it clear here that if it weren't for me, I would have deleted all of this. No, I'm going to delete it, I swear I will. Okay, I'm going to the bathroom for a moment and then I'll delete it."
I had to pause several times while reading this. I was very tense from the moment my name appeared. At first, I just sank into the text, smiling slightly at whatever nonsense I'd written, but little by little, I began to truly remember what this was all about.
This is a sad thing. It's the last time I'm going to experience or feel something like this, so what do I want to do with it? I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or both.
I put my hands to my head after finishing this passage, trying to calm down and focus on reading. It was difficult, but I managed to concentrate solely on the text, without thinking about anything else outside of it.
No, it's not that I didn't think about anything, it's that I lied to myself.
How could I read all this without doing it?
Everything's fine. She's fine. Nothing's happened, it's just a coincidence that I stumbled across this here now. Yes, I'm a bastard who hacked into his sister's computer to read her private things, her most morbid secret. Yes, everything's fine, everything's fine. Tomorrow I'll be able to hear her voice, tomorrow... But not today.
For that reason, I was able to continue reading the document. I didn't want to laugh, I didn't want to cry, I just wanted to read, to understand what this was, to understand its purpose, to understand everything. It was my responsibility.
There was another jump, from 20 to 25.
" August 25th. Would it be weird if I said I wanted school to start now? Dad recently called and told him I've been transferred to a different class because of my supposedly "high academic performance." They told me I'm going to 1-C now; I used to be in 1-E, by the way.
"Until today, I didn't know such a sudden class transfer was possible. I have no idea what the people at my high school are thinking, but I'm not going to complain either. Come on, if they're calling me smart to my face, they'll transfer me to a class with more decent people! At least, I hope so."
"I don't know who my classmates will be, even though I've probably seen them in the halls more than once. I doubt they even know I exist, so we're on the same level. I said they're going to transfer me, but it was more of a decision, one I accepted without thinking about it at all. I wasn't already comfortable in class, and I didn't like anyone, so I'm excited to make this change. I'm going to make 100 friends! I guarantee it!"
"Now seriously, I want to be able to talk to someone already. I'm tired of talking to myself on this stale sheet of paper. I'm not going to ruin my presentation by making it simple and boring, but I also have to make it somewhat normal, or else I'll be seen as weird."
"So what am I saying? I don't have much to say about myself. And why am I writing this? I guess I'm better off this way. No, even better, this is a written statement of my goals, which I will definitely achieve! Although I only have one, and not because of the class change, this is the only goal I have in my life right now.
"I'm not saying this because I'm feeling down, it's the truth. I don't have goals or dreams or anything. I'm not interested in anything in the future; I just consume what I like and that's it. And that's not going to get me a job. And no, I'm not going to do things like being a video game developer, a video game storyteller, or anything related to that. I like to play games, not make something from a game. For that same reason, I'm not going to write anything either. I have ideas, yes, but I'll pass. I wouldn't even do it as a hobby."
" Anyway, I'm really sleepy. Now that I think about it, it's really late. I shouldn't have started writing like crazy. I'm such a fool. Anyway, good night!"
He was speaking in front of me. I felt as if a faint voice was echoing through each sentence he read, displaying an almost realistic intonation and humor.
It's not my inner voice, I was doing it unintentionally, but at that moment I felt like I was reading while I was speaking. The next jump was from August 25th to September 2nd.
2.
"September 2nd. I'm giving up on this thing. Look, I'd convinced myself to write daily after I started. I'm actually glad; this is pointless, it just makes me look bad. I'll probably delete this someday. Please tell me I did. You'd be doing me a favor if you deleted all of this."
"Look, whatever, I'm going to keep writing. I haven't been doing anything for a while, although I'm going out this afternoon with Riku and his friends. Honestly, I don't know how he can stand me being there with him and the others. If you were to ask me if I consider them my friends, well, it's not normal for me to hang out with them, just because of the age difference. With my brother, I understand, but with them? Am I not old enough for it to be weird? Surprisingly, I do see myself as an 18-year-old, unlike 80% of women my age, who see themselves as 30-year-old whores or slutty kids."
"Why so much emphasis on whores? Because I've never met a woman who wasn't retarded. They're all bad people, some of them self-serving, and in reality, they don't trust the "friends" they have at all; they hang out just so they won't be alone. They have to worry a little about the rest, because if they're apathetic or more selfish than normal, they'll be alone again, so they have to act like they care about you. I'd rather be alone than hang out with people like that. But that doesn't mean I want to be alone; if only I could find someone… Just because they're below them doesn't mean I'm too high."
"Well, back to the topic, I'm done deleting all that, to what I was saying with Riku. I'd like to be able to consider &$%"! , =@º\' ya _¨*^?¿· as my friends, but do they think the same? Maybe they're just being nice to me by letting me hang out with them, but I'm really annoying in the group, and I only cause them trouble. If they're trying to hide that they're tired of me, they're doing a very good job.
"Likewise, even though I can't give them that credit, I'm grateful that they're Riku's friends. I'll never be able to repay them for all that, and I feel bad about it. I'm happy that he's not like me, especially at his age. In part, I'm alone because I want to be, because I'm unlucky, and because I'm very shy, and I guess I have trouble talking to strangers.
"I haven't been to a psychologist or anything like that. I'm not planning on wasting money on something I can already smell. On the other hand, Riku was alone because he was shy. Being shy seems to run in his family, because according to what Mom, Grandma, and Dad's parents told us, he was also shy and timid. The last time I asked Grandpa, on Dad's side, about it, he said he was grateful we both looked more like Dad. He would have loved us just the same if we'd turned out similar to Mom, but it would have been harder to break Mom's "bad habits." I'm not going to digress any longer; in the end, I'm talking about everything except what I did today, sorry.
" And even though I say this, I don't know what else to say. Yes, all three of them are very good people, each one completely different from the other, but they all have so many things in common at the same time. I wish I could thank them one day. I could do it today, but no way, I can't.
"I'm going to say goodbye. Let's see what I put here next time, I'll probably talk about how my day went, but maybe I'll forget, SO REMEMBER TO TELL IT, ^[Ç+? ^[Ç+? ^[Ç+? ^[Ç+?, LISTEN TO ME AND REMEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Now then, goodbye. "
The more I read, the blanker my mind became. I didn't stop for a second to think about what I was reading; I didn't give myself time to do so. I didn't want to go back yet. I consciously immersed myself in the torrent of text before my eyes, never taking my eyes off the screen.
But, I could still hear that static, in the back of my mind, as if it were a warning that all of this…
I ignored her
"September 3rd. I tell you, there was no way I'd forget to put something down, because I'm retarded. What a fucking shame, for God's sake… So, how was your day? Everything okay? Because mine WAS going well. But I had to screw it up myself. Just because I was with them, they decided to meet for dinner. I didn't even know this, but I wasn't going to turn them down, especially when all four of them had come into my room to ask me out. The whole get-together was fine. For the record, I showered and got ready before leaving; I'm not a slut! Not physically, at least…
"Normally, I wasn't the one who spoke first. They initially forced me to speak, but at some point, I just let myself go. I'm not saying this as if I'd gone too far; for once, I've done something good in my life.
"Dinner was also very good. We went to a normal restaurant, not a fast food restaurant, and ordered there. I was the only one in the group who didn't order a burger; I was even embarrassed that I had ordered a sushi selection after everyone else said they wanted burgers. It's a place they've named after because it's relatively cheap for the menu they have. They do quite a few things, and it's a standalone brand. Plus, it has a pretty nice, tidy atmosphere, and since they tend to eat early when they go there, it's practically empty."
"When they asked me if I really wanted to order sushi, I had to nod out of embarrassment that they'd say something if I changed my order. It's not that I don't like burgers, and I'd never been to this place before, but I was more eager to order sushi. I really like it."
"We were there for two hours: half an hour waiting, another half hour eating, and the rest of the time we spent talking. Although we talked the whole time we were there, that's why it took so long to eat. I felt that, as the oldest, I should pay for everything, out of my savings, of course. I don't even have a part-time job."
"What "ruined" everything for me was what I said before we parted ways. I called everyone's attention and started giving a speech about how sooo grateful I was for them. What I remember most was Riku's face, both surprised and slightly happy and relieved. The rest of them didn't know what to say at first, I guess because I was serious. They quickly said it was okay, and that they were grateful that I was "that guy's" sister.
"Just writing about that moment makes me blush, how disgusting. They also thanked me not only for meeting them at that moment, but for going out several times during the summer. I asked them if I really hadn't ruined anything. They told me the opposite, that even Riku talked more than usual that night. At this rate, I'm starting to think the "humiliated" one should be my brother, not me."
"When we said goodbye, you said you could meet up again another day, the five of us together. I'm so grateful. I truly love you all. I don't know what I would do if I were truly alone. Feeling this way is something I'll never be able to repay. I'm so pathetic that I can't do anything in return; I can only receive. I hate being like this. I'm the only one who earns something, while everyone else has to sacrifice something so I can be like this."
"Were you really serious? I didn't bother you at all? Do I really deserve all this? When did I deserve it? I don't even know why I wrote all that. I'm better now, sorry. Just so you know, I don't forgive you. Oh, you're so mean. Aren't you?"
"I have no idea where this comes from, but writing what I think feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It's not something anyone has to read; in fact, I shouldn't; it's like someone's reading my mind without my consent. But if I write it down, I really don't care. As long as they don't hold it against me later."
"I've said everything I need to say for today. I don't understand how I can start crying over something so simple, and on top of that, I'm just remembering it. I'm embarrassed."
"Maybe I'll go out with them again tomorrow. I'll see if I feel like it. I'm going to bed now. Good night. Get some rest. Yes, yes, thank you very much. You're welcome. I'm going to say goodbye to Riku instead of doing this, which is really weird."
"September 5th. I truly feel like these have been the best days I've had since entering high school. My brother had already told me how he felt like he would forget everything and go with the flow when he went out, except for sometimes, when he would just have a normal conversation. I don't know if I should have listened to the last thing he said, since he told me there were times when everyone was just doing stupid things at hangouts, not even thinking about the moment, while he was conscious.
"Thinking about what he said, being constantly self-conscious must be a horrible thing. Having to put up with it all the time, the only time you get to rest being when you're sleeping, must be like torture. There have been days when I've felt that way, but even then there have been moments when, for a second, I've switched off, and I've been able to feel things I'd never feel before. Only to wake up again.
"Didn't that all sound really poetic? I think I should become an author right now, hehe. Mental note, or not so mental note: NEVER WRITE ANY KIND OF LAUGHTER AGAIN, hehe."
"I'm already satisfied with what I've had these past few days. I'd like to have more days off, but oh well. We start classes in four days. Every time I think about it, I get nervous, when normally I'd get depressed."
"This is the first time I've ever felt like going to class. I've never liked studying, but I've always gotten really good grades. I didn't have to put in any effort until I entered high school, and I haven't had a major drop in my grades yet. It seems unfair to me, with people working really hard and struggling to study, only for a lady like me, who spends all day scratching her head, to get a better grade."
"I feel like I should drop out of school, to do myself some justice. I'll probably do that if I see I can't take it anymore. I also don't have any motivation to stay there. I've opted to do it just in case, while I'm studying, I discover my ideal job, and then I decide to go to university. Although that's more or less a lie, since I don't even have the motivation to study hard enough to pursue a degree, I completely pass. If I had something to study for, I might think differently, but that's not the case."
" Next time I come here, I might start bragging about the 1,000 friends I've made in class. I hope not, because I don't want that many friends. I do want at least one. I hope my motivation doesn't fade when I'm there."
The more she read, the longer the texts became. There wasn't even a jump between days, and her narrative could easily get lost in topics that had nothing to do with the one she was talking about. She kept getting carried away.
I felt like I was part of that narrative. Not because I was me, and because she'd mentioned me several times, but because I was someone she was addressing. I existed in that world of letters, both as a reference and in public, as a witness.
It was like a monologue. Did she feel like she was talking to someone?
Until September 9th, all the posts were about anecdotes from the day, with some opinion, feeling, or thought thrown in. The person I was getting to know through this was someone I didn't know at all; I didn't know who she was at all. I wasn't reading about ^[Ç+? anymore, I was reading about her.
The 9th was the day school started for her; I started a day later, on the 10th. I remember perfectly how happy she was that day, before we even left the house. I could tell she was eager to go, so much so that she even woke me up to ask if I was dressed properly. I'm absolutely against incest, but whoever said the uniform looked bad on her was wrong. Long live school uniforms.
It's not like it was anything new—it's last term's uniform, after all—but I could sense, even if I was half asleep, that she looked different. When she came home, she didn't look bad; she still had that smile she'd left with, just not radiating that energy from the morning. She was still happy, so I had nothing to worry about. She'd just be tired.
After that day, he returned to his daily routine, which didn't seem strange to me. I asked him a couple of times how his class was going, and he always said it was fine, better than before. He felt like that change of classes was the best thing that could have happened to him all year.
As the static started getting louder and louder, I decided to keep reading.
"September 9th. I knew it would end like this. Why can't I change? Why am I like this? It doesn't matter, I'm going to sleep. I'll figure out what to do tomorrow."
3.
I was briefly surprised to see how little he wrote that day. I didn't pay much attention, though, and kept reading. He wouldn't have much desire to write that day, after having spent all his energy at school.
"September 10th. It hasn't improved at all. The first day of school was the day I had to present myself well. No matter what, I was going to be calm, clear my mind, go up to the board, say my name, something I liked, and that's it. After that, I'd make friends. And long after, I'd keep them, I'd have tons of high school anecdotes. But no, I had to fuck it up. My grandiose, gifted mind had to fuck it up, like it was some fucking game.
"I walked up to the board, and I got nervous. Not only did I end up introducing myself poorly, but I also felt like I was completely speechless when I had to say something about myself. I couldn't think of anything better than to say that I like video games and anime. Of course, I said it nervously, with that insecure and indecisive tone of mine. Then I started to hear whispers and whispers, along with some laughter. The teacher told me to be quiet, but she probably didn't give a shit about people talking about me.
"I felt like crying as I walked back to my seat. How can I be such an asshole? So retarded that I can't even be myself for a fucking moment? Am I really that weird? Am I disgusting enough for you to look at me like that?"
"After that, even after that, I had the nerve to try to approach someone. First, a group of girls. They didn't reject me outright, but they couldn't have given me a more curt response. The ones in the group who weren't approaching me were even laughing. And it's not like I learned from that, no, no, with my empty head, how could I possibly learn anything?"
"If I could do that, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wish I weren't."
"I tried to approach a girl who was alone, reading a book, as best I could. It's not like she's antisocial, since I've seen someone talk to her before, albeit only briefly. As soon as I spoke to her, she asked if she could do it later, in a cold tone. She didn't even bother to look at my face while she said it. Maybe she spoke that way to her friend too, but at least she looked at her face, and she seemed friendlier. What bothers me the most is that I speak so fast; she said it as if she didn't want to waste her voice talking to me."
"Obviously, everyone in class heard that, because the son of a bitch, no matter how fast she said it, couldn't say it quietly; she had to shout it from the rooftops. The worst part was that she covered her mouth after speaking so loudly, and everyone could hear her, as if it were a mistake. She was just laughing in my face. I know it."
" The next day, people kept staring at me from time to time. But it seems I've started something else. They didn't say it to my face, of course, but they were calling me 'Weirdo.' I didn't say anything about it; that would only make things worse. Aside from the fact that the nickname was fucking shit, it was embarrassing. Both yesterday and today, I didn't talk to anyone, and I've barely spoken to Riku.
I wanted to run to his room, throw myself at him, and cry, but how could I do that? It would be incredibly disrespectful to him. He already has his problems; HE's the first one to tell me everything when he's feeling down. Why would I want him to worry about me? I'm the older sister; I can't be the type of person who cries about everything. That would only reflect poorly. And also, why do I cry so much? Why can I barely control myself?
"It's humiliating, painful, disgusting. My rotten mind can't think of more insults to describe myself with. I can't use my terrible vocabulary to say anything else. I can only repeat myself like a broken record, just as I repeat over and over again the mistakes I've already made a hundred times. I don't learn. I never have. I've never learned anything in my entire life."
" Am I an 'Adult' already? Seriously? How could I be someone like that? Before being an adult, I should become a teenager, before becoming a teenager I should become a child, and before becoming a child I should be a person. I am nothing. I am not an adult because I haven't matured. I am not a teenager because I don't have friends. I am not a child because I am not interested in anything. I am not a person because I don't want to feel anything. I am nothing. I am not anything. I am the nothingness that is not something. I shouldn't exist. What am I going to get out of trying so hard?
"And even so, I'm not going to stop studying. Tomorrow, the day after, and Friday I have exams, since they delayed them in my other class, but they've already taken them all in this one. I studied during the summer, but I don't know if I'm ready. I'll keep you posted on how they went. I hope I get my grades soon."
" I don't give up because I don't know if I should. I don't let myself do it, but I always say I want to, and I never do. Is it because I'm afraid of giving up halfway through? Or is it because I end up leaving everything I've broken unfixed? Should I even care about something like that? It's stupid. And besides, what do I need to fix, if the only thing broken here is me? Well, good night. And good luck with the exams. You can do it."
"September 11th. Today I had a math test. I think I did well. I don't expect an excellent grade, but I do expect a passing grade. There wasn't anything I didn't understand, and most of the results gave me numbers without decimals, most of them. It's what I've prepared for the most, after all."
" In class, I'm still the same. Even the loudmouth with the book has looked at me several times, albeit directly in the eyes. Honestly, I don't know what that girl wants or what her problem is. Now that you have someone to laugh at, you don't want to read your shitty book, do you? I wish your fucking parents had raised you better.
" This alone makes me regret agreeing to change classes. I should have thought about it, I should have been realistic. I'm not going to get anything good out of something like this. Did I really think I could meet someone? I'm a hypocrite. Instead of focusing on meeting people and making friends, I should have accepted that I am and will be alone, and dedicate myself to learning how to be alone. The rest doesn't matter; I only care about the people who care about me. If it's for them, I'll stay here. I'll do everything I can.
"I won't do it for myself, since I haven't promised myself anything. I don't have any expectations of my own, but everyone else has their eyes on me. Not just them, but society as well. Everyone expects me to become someone. Those who don't end up running away with a rope or drugs. It's the truth, and you have to accept it. I know the world is a shithole. If it were only for the world, I wouldn't live, but for the people in it, I think it's worth living. Anyway, I don't know if it's the best option to strive like this. I will do what I'm expected to do, and in return, I won't bother anyone. I'm the only one who should know myself; no one else needs to know who I am."
" I should start studying instead of talking nonsense. I have no basis or reason to say this, after all. That's all I have to complain about for today. This daily stuff is too much for me. I just throw shit at whatever comes to mind and that's it. I'm leaving now. Good night."
"September 12th. Today I took the Japanese exam. I've always been bad at everything related to writing, and it's been a struggle for me to learn all the signs since I was little, along with some spelling rules and the meanings of some random symbols…"
"I don't think I failed, I hope so, but if I do, it'll be just a hair's breadth. It's not that I didn't study, I'm just not good at it. What worries me now is tomorrow's social studies exam. There's a ton of theory, and when you add in the practice, it looks like it's going to be difficult. It's not the exam I've prepared the most for, because there's very little to prepare for and learn; you just study what's there and that's it. If you do poorly, it's because of a poor summary or organization; there are no other excuses."
"I don't plan to talk about my class anymore unless something relevant happens, so you can imagine how it went. And at what point did I become a storyteller? It's not like this is a story. In that case, it would be a joke."
" I'm going to stop writing. I also have nothing to say, so for now, see you tomorrow. Good night."
"September 13th. Finally, I can get some rest, god. I feel like my whole summer vacation was for nothing. Speaking of summer, weren't there fireworks like two weeks ago? If I've forgotten, I wasn't interested in them in the first place. I don't understand the point of going to see them; it's just a couple of lights in the sky and that's it."
"The reason you go is to see them with the friends you have. Going to those things alone is an incredible waste of time. Even if you go there to make friends, everyone will be too closed off in their cliques to care about you. People who tell you you can be with them, even if they talk to you while you're there, are doing it either out of pity or to be nice.
"No one is interested in something they don't know, and for that very reason, although it might be said otherwise, people tend to reject the unknown more than they seem. Being interested in things is something that is linked to children; people don't thrive on the interest of the new, they thrive on the goodness of the familiar. If you were constantly in an unknown world, you'd be too busy worrying about everything to live."
"Before I forget, I think today's exam went well. I connected the theory well with the situations presented on the exam, and the practice didn't give me anything unusual, or at least I didn't feel out of place at all. I must say, it's strange that all the exams look so good, but for once, I'm going to trust myself. Although that's the least of it right now. The really interesting thing is what happened in class today."
"That bitch from the book came to my seat and talked to me, but not to laugh at me. Just from this, I felt like the whole class had stopped talking to watch this situation. It's like an anime, why does everyone have to pay attention to me? Well, obviously they were pretending, but it was clear they wanted to laugh for a while. The one from the book asked me if I could go outside to the playground for a moment, and even though I listened to her, I knew I was going to come out of this badly.
"A lot of things could have happened. Either she'd mess with me, or her group of friends would harass me, or a guy would steal my money. Maybe I'd even get beaten up, even though I'm a woman. But none of those things ended up happening. The girl, out of sight, and with her balls firmly in place, bowed down to me, apologizing for what she said to me that first day. Not content with that, she went and told me she wouldn't mind being my friend."
"Is it out of pity? A dare? Are more bitches going to come out from behind a tree and laugh at me?" As much as I hated her, I ended up saying yes, more on impulse than anything. No one laughed at me for agreeing, and I barely even spoke to her. Hell, she didn't even tell me her name. Right after that, she left, saying she had to hang out with her friends. Yes, especially a girl who reads in class hanging out with her friends.
" I don't know what I'll do this weekend, probably just stay locked up here like an idiot. As if I even care.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go fuck Riku. I have nothing better to do than piss him off, and I definitely couldn't have expressed myself more negatively right now. Even if I could have deleted it, I wouldn't have, as punishment for being such a fool."
"See you later. I hope you don't get tired soon."
"September 14th. Should I go out with Riku today? Even his friends have pressured me to do it. I've said no so far, but really, should I? I'm not going to upset anyone, right? Even though I want to go out, I still feel like I don't deserve it. I want to do something to deserve it. What should I do? What do I have to do? It's not just that I don't deserve it anymore, I feel like I shouldn't. I feel bad about going out, I'm embarrassed to do it, but I don't even know what I'm ashamed of."
"Anyway, it's not like I feel like doing anything else. I've been staring at the computer screen all day doing nothing. Not because I like staring at the screen, I just didn't know what to do, I didn't feel like doing anything in particular. I ask myself, "What if I do this?" I spend two minutes on it, and I end up abandoning it, returning to where I started. It's a miracle I'm writing this."
"For now, I'm going to bed. It's still 6 p.m., but I don't have anything else to do. Maybe if I put on some music or ASMR, I'll get something done, or at least fall asleep. If I don't write anything else, it means I haven't gone out and I haven't done anything."
"I ended up leaving. I wouldn't say it to your faces, but it was a waste of time. I didn't do anything. It was even worse than being locked in this room, because on top of that, out there, I have to act, I have to pretend to be the person I always am. Is it really that hard to be me? It doesn't make sense."
"I also want to clarify that it's not that they ignored me at the get-together, or that it was boring for everyone. I'm the only weird one who wasn't distracted. The rest seemed to be tired of laughing so much at the end.
"Even though I haven't done anything, I'm tired too, so I'm not going to waste my time with this shit. At this rate, I'm going to end up deleting the file and everything. There's nothing here but crying and shit. I should just delete what I write once I'm done. I don't care about that punishment I gave myself anymore. So, good night."
From that text on, everything that followed happened less than a week ago. With this, I could begin to understand what had happened—at least, I hoped so.
I didn't feel anything when I read, even though I read things I should have been worried about, I read everything so quickly, and so superficially, that I didn't have time.
I just wanted to get to the end, see what happens, know what happened. If I took my time, I'd get cold feet, I'd back out, so I never stopped reading, as fast as I could.
4.
"September 16th. The girl with the book surprisingly spoke to me again today. She even told me her name, although I think "bookseller" is more fitting. Of course, I won't call her that in person, but I don't like her enough to call her by her name here.
"People have finally stopped paying attention to me in class. They've gone from giving me dirty looks to completely ignoring me. The only people who've given me dirty looks have been the bookseller's "friends" when they've gone to talk to her. I don't care at all now, whether they're looking at me or not. Oh, and tomorrow I'm going to get the grades for last week's exams. I'm so nervous..."
" And I haven't mentioned it because it seemed irrelevant, but I almost fell asleep writing that. I haven't slept at all, not yesterday, not today, I couldn't. It's not because I had a Saturday night, but no matter how tired I am, at night it seems like my body and mind just don't want to go to sleep. Maybe I should have fallen asleep at the keyboard a little while ago. Well, I don't think I'll be able to write much today, I have a ton of homework, and two projects to start, and with what they assigned me today I'm going to do more than I did in the first quarter... So, anyway, I'll let you know how it goes, bye."
"September 17th. I'm tired of putting the date on this shit. I'm tired of everything, I can't do a fucking thing right, and I always have to screw everything up. If I keep going like this I'm going to end up hurting people, if I keep doing everything wrong I'm going to end up screwing people's lives up."
"And yet, I can't do anything. I've already tried my hardest, studied for three weeks, and everything, EVERYTHING, has gone to shit. So much time wasted reading poorly written pages, poorly summarized, like an idiot. It's my fault everything went so wrong. It's horrible. I'm horrible. I deserve it. That's what I get for not having dedicated even more time to it."
"If I can't do this, then what am I going to do in the future? Will I be able to do anything? Will I even get anything out of finishing my studies? It's like thinking that once I finish my studies I'll find the perfect job, and it's bullshit."
"I'm not good at work because I don't like any job. If I can't decide on a job now, after I've seen almost everything, why would I think I'd like that little bit I haven't seen, if it's been so irrelevant that I haven't even found it yet? If I were that weird, that weird, then people would at least pay a little more attention to me."
"Every teacher has told me the same thing. 'If you're starting like this this term, you didn't do anything last term.' 'You probably didn't study anything.' 'You should have known this in high school.' And all with those whispers and those rotten, horrible looks, it makes me want to gouge everyone's eyes out.
" But I can't fool anyone. I know I deserve them. They're better people than I am. They've passed, I haven't. I'm the idiot, the retarded one, the stupid one. I'm inferior. No, I've always been. Just because I think differently from the rest doesn't mean I'm superior. Just because I have different tastes from them doesn't mean they're inferior.
They've always had someone with them, I've always been alone. I'm not even worth it as a fake friend. No one has even bothered to get close to me with those intentions. And I'm not going to say that nonsense about being too good for the rest. It's bullshit. Whoever says that is only saying it to make themselves feel better, because of how pathetic they are, because of the terrible person they've become.
"The fact that there are people who think this way disgusts me. Are people that messed up in their heads? But of course, who's going to bother listening to the voice of a loser, a failure, a mistake, someone inferior, not because of their race, ethnicity, or beliefs, but because of who they are?"
"In a just world, people would be judged as superior or inferior by who they are—by their accomplishments, their goals, their personality, their being—everything that has to do with the person, not their body or beliefs. I abide by this."
"I don't have any qualities or beliefs that anyone could mess with, and yet, I have no one except my family, and at the rate I'm going, I'm going to lose them all. I'm going to lose them all because of my own incompetence, because of my own lack of interest in everything. I'm horrible, I should do it. I wish I could. I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid."
"I want to diediediediediediediedie. It's easier, faster, and more everything. You only have to face something difficult once. If you live, you're going to be constantly suffering. Life is like a toxic relationship; everything is fucking shit, everything is full of abuse and despair. No one will congratulate you for the things you do well, especially if it's your duty, but everyone will point out and laugh at your mistakes. And on top of that, to keep you from leaving the relationship, there are fleeting moments of happiness, love, and affection, and then the cycle of suffering continues.
"Why do I want to live? What motives do I have? What makes me cling to life so tightly, and what makes me so afraid of death? Pain. The pain that death brings is what terrifies me. I don't know what to do to avoid dying. What if I do it wrong? I don't want to have a horrible death. If only I could stop existing, everything would be so much better. Why can't I convince myself to do it? Is it because I still think I can stop being alone? I don't want to be alone. Me."
The piece of text ended abruptly there. At least for today, there was still more to read.
I didn't reflect or think about what I had just read, but even though I didn't feel anything, I could feel a black cloud spreading behind my head, making it harder and harder to see things around me, but easier to read.
The glow of the computer screamed at me to pay attention to it, that it was there to help me, not to reject it.
I couldn't feel myself, and I don't mean physically. I didn't feel like myself. It's as if, at that moment, I had no identity. I was a nameless consciousness forced to read the writing of a girl I didn't know, with no purpose in my existence other than that.
I could only read, and that's all I wanted to do at that moment. I continued, knowing nothing good would come of it.
" September 18th. Can I be any more childish? I look like a useless little girl doing things like that. How the hell did I ask Riku to sleep with me, in HIS room?! How fucking embarrassing. And thank goodness I at least acknowledge that, because I have a lot of nerve asking him for that. I can't stand it.
"Why do I have to bother him so much? I have to depend on him all the time because he's the only person I have close to. Can't I just learn to be alone once and for all? How happy I'd be if I just knew how to be alone is unimaginable."
" There are times when I'm okay being alone, and I can laugh and everything, but normally I'm indifferent or upset. And I'm an idiot for being that way. If I'm upset, it's my fault and my fault alone. Besides, it's not like many people care. Yeah, only the people who care about me would care, and those two are a select few, since I doubt there are more. Doesn't that mean my existence barely matters?
"It's not just that I'm irrelevant anymore, I'm a bad person, I'm horrible. Physically and mentally, I'm horrible.
I have an average body; nothing stands out, but I'm not ugly, and none of that bothers me. What I hate about my body is that if a guy approached me, I'd doubt whether it was because of me, or my body, or, for that matter, simply because I'm a woman. And since girls don't care at all about me, I'm the one who has to try to fit in. But how am I going to do that?
"And even if I can't fit in, someone will tell me to find people with my same tastes and personality, but not only is that goal too big for me, and I don't see myself capable of it, but I also don't think I'll find anyone like that in this shitty little town, and I'd hardly find anyone like that outside of it.
" And that's just the physical, and a bit of my mentality, but it's not just what I think, what I like or what I don't. It's my personality and way of thinking that bothers me. No one would want to be around a pessimistic bore, a complete idiot who thinks on her feet, and irritates even when she doesn't want to. A fly that flies in front of the person, and who is weirder than a green cat. I'm like a tick attached to a person, one that will never let go. I have a very bad sense of humor, half of what I say isn't funny, and the other half is pitiful. What use am I to? What can I do with my being? Do I have to prostitute myself to exist in society? Why can't I be a person from the moment I'm born? Why do I have to earn that position in society? Doesn't being human make me a person? Doesn't existing in this world make me an individual?
And for the people who do know of my existence, who am I? Who am I to them? Who am I to tell them? Probably a weirdo. I want to know. What am I? What?"
The text didn't change during the day, but it did change the subject completely. From what follows, you can tell when this happens.
This was written 4 days ago, that day was when, upon arriving home after the mess at my high school, I went to check on my sister out of pure paranoia.
I told her what I thought, and she seemed happy, she seemed relieved. No, she was happy. I know perfectly well that she was.
"He said it. Everything I thought he was going to say, he said it. Even if he knew it, I don't know how to take it, but at that moment, I felt better about myself. I also don't understand why I asked him about my body… I don't care anymore.
"Even if he put it that way, it doesn't mean he's changed his mind. Me doing my duties isn't something to admire. Me being kind isn't something to admire. Just because one person out of millions likes who I am doesn't mean… What am I saying? How can I even think about that? He meant it, and all I'm doing is invalidating him? Have I always been this ungrateful? Yes, always, always, me. I've always been selfish. I've never been responsible, I always try to procrastinate whenever I get the chance.
" Since I never share my test scores, there's no one who can check whether I'm studying hard or not, especially if I fail every test and don't say anything. I'm afraid to open my mouth. Although if I'm going to open it to humiliate myself even more, I'd better shut it. If I'm not going to stop touching my slit, I'm better off dead."
"September 19th. I HATE HIM. WHAT NEED DOES HE HAVE TO SCARE ME LIKE THAT!?!?!?!?!? EVEN IF IT WASN'T A JOKE, IT WAS IN VERY BAD TASTE!?!? AND THE WORST OF ALL IS THAT I STARTED CRYING?!!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?! What's wrong with me?
"He had me worried, no, he's had me worried all morning, and I still am, a little, but, was it really that bad? I'm not saying this to discredit how bad he's been through, but he was SO bad that when he recovered, I started crying? And on top of that, I threw myself at him...
"Before, I almost locked myself in my room and started writing here, but in the end, I've been wandering around the house like a fool. The only productive thing I've done is worry about Riku and make dinner. I don't like making it; whenever I make it, it tastes way worse than when anyone else makes it. It doesn't matter what it is, even if it's preheated, it tastes worse.
"I don't know if they don't tell me to my face out of embarrassment or because it actually tastes good, but they never complain when I make it. They say the opposite: that it's good, that I put a lot of love into it. No way, I just try to do it as quickly as possible to get it out of the way, and I don't know that much about cooking, and I don't know how to make many dishes."
"I don't do it because it would seem weird, but sometimes I don't even want to eat when I'm cooking. I say it would be weird because they'd probably notice something was wrong with me if I didn't eat what I made. Well, it's just silly."
"I don't think I'm going to do anything for the rest of the day, especially with how I've humiliated myself, once again. It seems like I'm training for it. I'll let you know tomorrow how my class went and everything. I'm not going to write anymore. I'm tired. I might even delete this shit."
"September 20th. Nothing happened in class. The bookseller still hasn't said anything to me, and she was so excited to talk to me, she was so eager that it disappeared the next day. And definitely nothing's going to happen while I'm locked up here. What's more, I'm going to be alone. Riku went out with &$%"!, apparently, =@º\' and _¨*^?¿· aren't going out, and he hasn't told me why. It's not like I care, he wouldn't have gone out anyway. I don't want to say it directly because maybe I'll back out just thinking about it, but I want to. I just need a rope, I'll be fine buying it at any store and saying my dad asked me to, as long as I buy it with more gadgets.
"I don't want to think about it any longer, because every time I do it, I feel scared and repulsed, but I have to do it. It's the only time in my entire life I've felt a modicum of determination to do it. I've never felt like this, and right now I don't feel sad or desperate; I feel calm. It's because I'm not even going to start yet. And if I do end up doing it, I'll probably delete this before doing anything, for sure. I'd kill myself again if I found out someone was reading this. Go away, stop reading this, go run in the countryside, or do anything else that's not wasting time with this, although at this point I don't think you'll stop... It doesn't matter. I'm going to go buy it; if I do, I'll skip the farewell; if not, I guess I'll continue writing."
"I've already bought the rope, but I don't know if I'm going to do it. It's still early, it's like 5 PM, and my brother will be home around 9 PM or so, so I have time, a lot of it. I can think about it, I can motivate myself, I can get cold feet, but I don't know what I'm going to do. Just because I can do it doesn't mean I want to do it."
"The bad thing about this is that the longer I'm in doubt, the less desire I'll have to try. And the worst part is that I'm still calm. It's not like I'm calm about being at peace; I feel more like I'm indifferent about it, emotionally speaking, if you understand what I mean.
"I'm also not going to waste my time being angry while writing whatever comes to mind about myself. I already know everything. There are so many things I want to say that I haven't said yet that I don't know what to say, and at the same time, I don't know how to explain myself. I feel like I want to vent, but at the same time, I feel like I don't want to, that I shouldn't, that it's a waste of time.
"I don't know what's worse: feeling sad, like I normally am while I'm writing here, or feeling sad right now. I'm afraid of not feeling anything, of admitting that and not reacting to it. What's wrong with me? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? What's wrong with me that I have to think like this? What have I done to myself to try to resolve everything like this?"
"I'm not desperate to die, nor am I scared enough to live, so why am I here, talking about this? Why did I buy it? In the end, I'm sure I won't do anything with it. It'll all be a lie, a false promise, I'll amount to nothing. If I'm here, it's also because I haven't learned anything, nothing. No matter how many series I've watched with thousands of messages, I haven't received anything. It hasn't changed me in the slightest. I haven't changed, I never have, not in the slightest.
"I've been the same person for five years. As always, I haven't achieved anything, that's clear. I don't want to repeat myself, but I haven't even been able to change myself, even a little. To achieve something is to make something change, that's what I think. No matter what it is, if something changes, you've done something, therefore, something has changed, and the achievement you achieve by changing it is proof of that. That's why I haven't done anything."
" I don't care if I don't get straight A's in class. I don't care that I don't have friends. I don't care that I have just one person I'm close to. If I'd just changed, everything would be different, it would be better, but I haven't. I don't know how you change in the first place. How do I change? It seems impossible. Years and years of development, only for one day, out of nowhere, to say, "Oh yeah, I'm completely different now!" And shit. I couldn't even do it long-term. Do you want me to do it right away?
How do people agree to put up with this? How do people carry all the weight they're carrying? Do they just leave it to someone else? And what do those others do? I don't get it. And it's not like anyone's going to explain it to me, no no, I'm going to be screwed for the rest of my life because no one's going to teach me how to live."
"A clown who thinks he's got his life made would tell me that you're not taught how to live life, you just learn to live it. What a load of crap. You're taught to live in society, you're taught that you have to be someone in that society, and if you don't get that into your head before you're 18, you have three very, very clear options. I've chosen one of them. I'm not fed up, but I know I am. I'm not dissatisfied, but I feel like I am. I know who I am, but I don't know what I want. Isn't that ironic? No, it isn't, it's stupid."
" That you don't know yourself is your fault and yours alone. Don't expect someone to tell you how you feel at some point, because it's surreal. If you don't know who you are, it's useless for others to tell you what they think you are. If you don't know, you're nobody. End of story. You don't exist. You have to make yourself exist. If you don't make yourself exist, how are you going to exist?
"Do you want the laws of physics, of nature, whatever it takes, just to make ^[Ç+? exist? And if I can't, what do I do? Do I give up? Do I let them throw me away like a dirty rag? Leave it all. Abandon everything. End yourself, that person you could never be. Give up. I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it, I give up, I'm so sorry. I give up, I give up, I give up. I don't want to try, I won't try. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
" Sorry."
The cloud behind me covered everything around me, and only the screen—no, only the sheet of text—reached my vision. It seemed much larger than it actually was.
The text of the 20th ended, and I was already on the last page of the document. This wasn't the last of it, but I wasn't going to hear any more about her.
There are things I'll never know about when she was home two days ago, but I can get a general idea of that day.
On the other hand, I can't glean anything from the next one. I'll never know what he thought that last day. I'll never know what he did before all that. I won't know, I'll never know what he said. I won't know his last words, his last will, anything.
I don't know if his "last words" could be considered those in this document, since there's nothing written about September 21st, she doesn't mention it at any point.
But there was still something left to read. It was one sentence, just one, and it was short—just two words.
Two words full of emotions, which have been lost when written on this shiny piece of metal.
"I love you."
That was it. There was nothing more. No matter how hard I tried to scroll down the document, I was done.
At the time I didn't have in mind that my personal document was still there, but how could I read that after all this?
I didn't want it to end. I wanted to keep reading. I wanted to read his entire life captured in this text, no matter the hardship it radiated, the anger it expressed. It didn't matter. I wanted to continue.
I brought my hands to the keyboard, agitated, nervous, anguished, unsure of the purpose of the inertia that had driven me to move them.
From the strain, the useless band-aid stuck to my hand fell off, and a small drop of blood began to form in my palm. If I forced it, it might fall off.
I started writing. It wasn't much, just four words, just four. They had no purpose, no reason, nothing. I did it on a whim; they even seemed like an insult. An offense. It wasn't going to accomplish anything; no more text would appear, and it wouldn't heal my wound. No one would see them. She wouldn't read them.
And when I finished, the drop of blood fell.
" I love you too."